


Occhiolism

by Mishalocked24



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 11:58:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17344856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishalocked24/pseuds/Mishalocked24
Summary: Sam's perception on Dean and Cas' relationship isn't a simple one.From the story:Sam has learnt the hard way that the smallness of their perspective is what really stops humans from feeling the way Dean and Castielfeel.





	Occhiolism

**Occhiolism:** _The awareness of the smallness of your perspective._

It’s like when you hear a faint sound, muffled by the walls that surround you, and you open your ears to catch the notes, trying to sort through what you’ve learned during your music lessons to recognize the melody.

Sometimes it seems that the tune that vibrates through your eardrums is off-key and that who’s playing the instrument of his life isn’t even trying.

Sometimes the screeching cacophony becomes a symphony and suddenly everything seems to retrieve its harmony.

At times Sam feels out of place when he looks at them, when he watches the way they stitch their souls back together and hears the whispers and the soothing words that are meant just for their own hearts.

Sam always gulps when he sees the lingering touches, the hands caressing with reverence the shoulder of the other while they casually pass, and he tries to hide his face with his long hair, lowering his gaze and not wanting to intrude in the bubble of their shared resonance.

He hears their sighs at night, those soft whimpers that escape from their lips whenever their bodies join in flesh and in spirit, and he just closes his eyes, feeling a soft pang in his chest when under his closed eyelids images of their frames pass with their ruthless claws, briefly scratching his heart.

Sometimes Sam just smiles, a bittersweet smile that can’t really heal the wounds in his ribcage.

Sometimes pictures of his past life brutally flow inside his head, calling to memory loved features with their soft eyes and sweet lips.

Loved faces, now lost.

The morning after he always leaves a cup of coffee in the kitchen for them and goes for a run.

It’s not love what bonds one to the other, it’s not the simple and bare emotion of fondness, of lust and passion that ties their souls together and Sam is well aware of that.

Those who have a pair of functioning eyes wouldn’t dare to reduce to mere sounds the feeling that is carved in their path since they were meant to exist.

The devotion, the attachment, the _desperate need_.

Everything can’t be summoned up in one single word.

 _They_ can’t be summoned up in one single word.

Philosophers, theorists, students of every league always tried to explain the concept of human emotions, never quite reaching the ultimate answer.

Sam has learnt the hard way that the smallness of their perspective is what really stops humans from feeling the way Dean and Castiel _feel_.

They don’t simply perceive the way the world is shaped, they don’t conform their sentiments to the way men conceive.

They annihilate themselves _in order_ to live with the other, to live _in_ the other.

They would crush their own bones if it just meant to let the other survive.

And Sam knows that.

_Oh, if he knows._

That’s why whenever he feels their pat on _his_ shoulders or hears their laugh at a joke _he_ makes, he can feel the gloominess that clouds his heart dissolve a little.

That’s why whenever he annihilates himself and crushes his own bones to let _them_ survive, he just feels the same bittersweet smile on his face, pulling briefly at his lips when he closes his eyes.

Because for one single moment he has felt like them, he has lived like them, he has lived for them.

_He has been one of them._


End file.
